


the calm before the storm

by zahivs



Category: Vis a Vis | Locked In (Spain TV)
Genre: Crimes & Criminals, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Lesbian Sex, Murder Wives, No Lesbians Die, Romantic Fluff, Soft Zulema Zahir
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29566842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zahivs/pseuds/zahivs
Summary: “You can just ask for help, you know. Instead of acting as if you’re fine.” The blonde admitted and looked back at the struggling woman with raised brows.“I don’t need help. Especially not yours.”ORThe one where Macarena has had enough and confronts Zulema with harsh words that she eventually regrets.Major Fluff Warning for the end.
Relationships: Macarena Ferreiro/Zulema Zahir
Comments: 19
Kudos: 72





	the calm before the storm

**Author's Note:**

> A prompt that was thrown my way inspired me to create this little Zurena one-shot. Enjoy. 
> 
> @zahivs on Instagram  
> @nachonimri on Twitter

_she was not only the calm before the storm. she was both the calm and the storm for me. ___

* * *

____

“Joder.” 

The steady rhythm of the clock ticking above the door frame caused the wheels in Macarena’s head to turn and her nerves to snap. It felt like the invading noise the clockhand made with every second only grew louder and even more irritating. The blonde’s leg was bouncing up and down in a nervous manner and while her eyes were glued to the clock, her teeth found the nail of her index finger pretty interesting. 

She had tried to call Zulema five times already but every time she did, the mailbox answered.

”I’m clearly busy, so fuck off.. oh and if you dare to leave a message, I’ll snap your neck.” Came Zulema’s pre-recorded voice from the other side of the line. 

Macarena slammed her phone down on the table after the sixth unsuccessful call attempt. 

It wasn’t like she was overprotective and it wasn’t like Zulema ever answered her phone. But it struck midnight and the brunette had been gone the whole day. When Macarena had woken up, the other half of their shared bed had been empty and there was no sign of the older woman; no post-it note on their fridge, no text, no nothing. 

They had gone to bed together and she woke up alone. 

And that only happened whenever they had sex. Zulema would always avoid Macarena because she couldn’t look her in the eyes the day after. 

Usually when Zulema left their van without telling Maca, she either came back a few hours later or she would let her know that she wouldn’t be home for dinner because she was out, probably mingling with strangers. 

But now almost fourteen hours had passed with no trace of the older woman and Macarena was starting to worry that something might have happened to her. And the fact that Zulema thought she was immortal while Macarena knew she certainly wasn’t, often got them in trouble. 

It wasn’t until a few minutes later that the door of their van opened, hitting one of the kitchen counters next to it with a loud thud. Macarena’s eyes snapped from the clock down to a very torn-up Zulema. 

“It’s past midnight, where the hell have you been?!” Macarena hissed, arms crossing over her chest in defensiveness. 

Instead of answering, the raven-head just rolled her eyes and closed the door behind herself. 

“Zulema, I’m talking to you! I was worried!” It was a rare thing for them to express their feelings to one another but at this point, Maca could not hold back anymore. 

“Oh? You were worried? Since when do you worry about me?” Zulema’s sarcastic voice rang in the blonde’s ears and it was sending alarming signals to her brain. 

It took every nerve inside Macarena’s body not to lunge at the older woman and beat the crap out of her. 

Once again, silence. 

The blonde let her eyes roam over the deranged figure standing in front of her. Black hair and bangs that were usually falling down to her collarbones, perfectly straight, with ears shyly peaking out from beneath, had turned into a messy bird-nest. Her black eyeliner was smudged and mixed up with the teal on her waterline and it wasn’t possible to distinguish the make up from the tattooed line under her eye anymore. 

Looking further down, her eyes followed Zulema’s hand that was tightly clutching the side of her stomach. 

Only then Macarena realized that something was really up and it wasn’t just Zulema being late for no good reason. 

There was blood running over her hand which ended up creating a puddle of red liquid on the floor of their caravan. 

“Joder, Zulema. Blood? Are you bleeding?” Macarena blurted her thoughts out aloud. 

“No shit, Sherlock.” The older woman snapped back as she stabled herself against the kitchen counter. 

Ignoring her, Macarena jumped up from her chair and rushed towards the brunette, only to be met with a very rejecting Zulema. 

“Just let me take care of you for once.” The blonde pleaded, hazel meeting emerald. 

Although Zulema’s body screamed in defense, her eyes looked beseeching. Macarena knew she couldn’t put it into words but her eyes told their own story.  
Macarena’s heart fluttered at the look she was given and she had to hold her composure or else the other woman would surely pass out sooner or later.

“Vale, we need to take this off first.” The blonde said in a more calm voice, reaching for her dark bomber jacket and carefully sliding it down her shoulders so Zulema could pull her arms out of it. 

When she moved, Zulema’s scent invaded Macarena’s nose. Smoke, rain and something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on were clouding her mind and she had to force herself to focus.

“Come on, you have to sit down.” She looped her arm around the brunette’s waist to stable her as she walked to the bathroom, helping her sit down on the toilet seat.

Macarena lowered herself to be at level with the wound Zulema was still pressing down on. 

“Let me see.” The blonde demanded and the older woman hesitantly pulled her hand away so Macarena could observe the dripping wound. 

“Who did this to you?”

Calm eyes snapped up to darker, storming ones. 

Macarena knew Zulema wasn’t going to answer and she didn’t. And although she felt furious, she let it go for now. Instead of freaking out, Macarena reached for the toilet paper roll and ripped some tissues off, “Shirt off.”

“Que?” Zulema’s rough voice croaked and she looked at her with raised brows.

“Come on. It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before.” 

Macarena rolled her eyes at Zulema’s typical behavior and she had to admit she was quite surprised when the older woman obeyed and placed her hands on the hem of her sweater. 

The pain must be so bad that it made Zulema forget about her values and her rule of not letting Macarena get too close to her. 

When Macarena turned away to pour some alcohol on a tissue, she could see Zulema struggling to take off her sweater in the corner of her eye. 

Knowing that it would be no use to argue at that moment, the blonde put the tissue aside and helped the older woman take off her sweater. The view before her sent shivers down Macarena’s spine and she remembered the nights they had spent taking each other’s clothes off so effortlessly and carelessly.

When hopeful hazels sought for emeralds again, longing to catch the same nostalgia in them, she couldn’t seem to find what she was looking for. Instead of looking at Macarena, Zulema was staring at the wall behind her, not caring and certainly not wanting to meet her eye. She didn’t want to reassure Macarena that she was feeling the same. She didn’t want to let her walls crumble. 

“This is going to sting.” Macarena whispered to break the awkward tension, looking down at the wound on Zulema’s stomach. 

But she just huffed, “I’ve been through worse, rubia.”

Zulema and her fucking ego. She was half-dying of blood loss and still she couldn’t hold herself back. Macarena absolutely despised it when it didn’t turned her on.

Without another warning, the blonde pressed the alcohol onto the wound. And she couldn’t lie, part of the force came from her anger. The anger she had already kept inside for so long. 

The anger of an unfulfilled love. 

“Ugh, fuck!” Zulema hissed and slapped Macarena’s hand away, “Could you be any more insensitive, coño!”

Macarena ignored the slap and continued wrapping the bandage around her waist.  
“And you said you’ve been through worse?” She said, accompanied by an eye-roll.

The blonde stood up, throwing the bloody tissue in the trash before putting the first-aid-kit back into the cupboard. 

Zulema tried to get back up but the pain was shooting from the wound right throughout her whole body and she couldn’t help but groan. Her body felt heavy and tired and every move was extremely painful. 

“You can just ask for help, you know. Instead of acting as if you’re fine.” The blonde admitted and looked back at the struggling woman with raised brows.

“I don’t need help. Especially not yours.” 

That’s it. That was enough.

Macarena slammed the door of the cabinet shut angrily, turning around to face the older woman again. Her eyes had changed from hopeful hazels to ice cold hues. She rarely got this angry but when she did, it was always because of Zulema. That woman caused the monster inside her to come out and take over. And that wasn’t always a good thing. At least not if it doesn’t have anything to do with sexual activities.

“What the actual fuck is your problem, Zulema?! I’m trying to help you here and you’re just acting as ungrateful as always! You go around treating everyone like shit! Have you ever heard about give and take? No? Of course you haven’t. Your parents clearly fucked up with raising you. You’re so exhausting, Zulema. I’ve had enough of your bullshit, enough!”

Macarena’s monologue hit Zulema harder than it should have. It hit her like a brick in the chest and it tore right through her heart.

The blonde was still furious. Her chest was heaving with rage. But when Zulema stood up and their eyes met for the first time, Macarena knew she had said too much. She knew she had touched upon a subject she shouldn’t have. 

Zulema’s wide eyes suddenly turned dark. It was as if they were empty but at the same time filled with so much misery. Macarena knew those words had to be said but she instantly regretted them.

The brunette lowered her gaze, shaking her head in what seemed like disappointment.

“Zulema.” Macarena tried in a softer voice but it was no use. 

Zulema had already turned around, leaving their caravan with quiet steps. 

* * *

It was no surprise to Macarena that she ate dinner alone, went to bed alone and woke up alone once again. 

Zulema clearly needed space and Macarena let her.  
This wasn’t unusual. The older woman always left when things got emotional. She didn’t want to show Macarena her vulnerability although yesterday, the blonde swore she had seen tears in Zulema’s eyes. 

When in the morning, Macarena made breakfast, her companion still wasn’t around. Macarena being Macarena, she started worrying about Zulema and her wound, hoping she was safe. 

If not, she would forever blame it on herself. 

Pancakes were Macarena’s favorite kind of breakfast. But this morning she could barely eat half of it without throwing up. Zulema wasn’t here to spray whipped cream on her lips out of nowhere and then lick it off, nor was she here to argue with her over who’s supposed to do the dishes. She felt lonely without the brunette and she hated to admit that. 

But Zulema and her were like Yin and Yang and no one could deny that.

When Macarena realized she was thinking too much again, she decided to do the dishes and take a long, hot shower to clear her head.

Her eyes found her own reflection in the mirror and she almost couldn’t recognize herself anymore. Dark rings graced the skin beneath her eyes and her skin looked pale and lifeless. Like the moon that fades away when dawn breaks across the windowsill each morning. 

Feeling even more disappointed in herself after looking into the mirror, Macarena grabbed the box of cigarettes from Zulema’s nightstand and walked outside. She rarely smoked but living with Zulema came with an unhealthy amount of cigarette boxes and right now she was grateful for that. 

But before she could even light a cigarette for herself, a certain, very familiar raven-head interfered with the perfect view of untouched land scape. 

Zulema was sitting on the bench next to their van, looking exactly the same as yesterday. Macarena figured she hadn’t slept at all. 

The rustling of the sand beneath Macarena’s feet broke the silence and by now she was sure Zulema must be aware of her presence. But the woman didn’t move one bit. 

The blonde sat down next to Zulema, finally lighting the cigarette in her hand before puffing a cloud of smoke into the air. 

“How’s the wound?” Maca asked, still looking ahead of them just like Zulema was. 

Neither of them was daring to look at the other. 

“Good.”

The shortness of her answer brought Macarena back to the events of yesterday. Back to the fact that she hurt Zulema. 

She turned her head to face the brunette, letting her eyes hover over the side of her face and She almost looked unbothered. 

“Zulema..” Macarena started gently, her expression softening as she looked right at her. 

No reaction. 

“Zule..” She tried again but all Zulema did was purse her lips while looking up at the sky. 

Then a hand found her cheek and with a little pressure, she forced the older woman to look at her. Their eyes finally meeting again. 

Macarena gasped almost inaudibly at Zulema’s glossy eyes. She rarely ever got any reaction from her and this was already enough to overwhelm her. 

Softly, the pad of Macarena’s thumb caressed over Zulema’s cheekbone as if she was afraid to break her. 

”Lo siento.”

The apology came unexpectedly and to say Macarena was surprised was an understatement. She had never heard Zulema apologize for anything. Her voice was almost shaky and her tone genuine. It reassured her that she wasn’t lying. 

Zulema’s eyes flickered between her own, left and right as if she was unsure and afraid of her reaction. But Macarena kept quiet, her eyes softening immensely. 

“Lo siento, también.” The blonde replied after a short while. Her voice barely above a whisper. 

They continued staring at each other. The silence around them finally felt comfortable instead of tense. Both of them knew they hadn’t just apologized for yesterday but for everything that had ever driven them apart.

Macarena pushed a soft lock of black hair behind Zulema’s ear, earning a slight flinch from the other woman. She was still not used to affection but she tried.

Hazels flickered down to the brunette’s lips and back up to her bambi-doe eyes as her hand cupped Zulema’s cheek again. They were both scared to take this step mainly because they rarely kissed, at least never out of the bedroom.

They knew that a kiss would change their fragile relationship and only cause more fights and pulling away in the future.

But looking right into Zulema’s face, Macarena knew she wanted it just as much. And suddenly they seemed to forget all of their rules and boundaries. 

With that, Macarena leaned in, head tilting to the right before she closed the mere distance. The feeling of their lips touching wasn’t new, but it was unfamiliar. This kiss felt different, it was soft and careful instead of harsh and fast like before.

Zulema’s lips closed around Macarena’s soft upper lip, her eyes fluttering closed. Her heart was thumping beneath her rib cage and even if she wanted to get away from the feeling as fast as possible, Maracena held her back.

When both of them ran out of air, Macarena pulled away from the older woman, leaning forward to rest her forehead against Zulema’s shoulder.

“I really didn’t mean what I said yesterday.” The blonde whispered into the brunette’s chest, taking a deep breath.

“Lo sé.” 

Zulema placed her hand upon the back of Macarena’s head, running her fingers through soft blonde locks, “Lo sé.” She repeated in a quiet tone.

And in this moment it felt like everything was alright, like everything was put into place.

But they both knew that was just the calm before the storm.


End file.
